


Beginn, Shed-ic Kix, and Jessplea

by TooBusyWriting



Series: Pun Wars [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Force Ghost(s), Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Gen, Grief/Mourning, I promise, Kix needs a nap; a hug; and the vode, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Screw Canon I'm writing what I want and that's Finn and Kix interactions, That's semi-relevent now; a later chapter will see more use of it, Tired medics, the medic is Kix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25736233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooBusyWriting/pseuds/TooBusyWriting
Summary: Kix had thought he’d finally adjusted to being 50 years in the future while he was with the Corsair’s crew. He had spent a good few years with them, after all.There was a ghost on the base. At least, that was the conclusion Finn came to upon seeing a translucent blue man wandering around, nigh oblivious to anything else.For some reason, Jesse could follow Kix around. Well, notjustJesse, but he was the one who did so the most often.-In which Finn begins a handful of things, Kix sheds some tears, and Jesse resorts to pleas that he could talk to his vod again.
Relationships: CT-5597 | Jesse & CT-6116 | Kix, CT-5597 | Jesse & CT-6116 | Kix & Hardcase (Star Wars), Finn & CT-5597 | Jesse, Finn & CT-6116 | Kix, Hardcase & CT-6116 | Kix
Series: Pun Wars [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770124
Comments: 59
Kudos: 181





	1. Brother How I Miss You Everyday That Passes By

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Esprit de Corps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211745) by [meridianpony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianpony/pseuds/meridianpony). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say for this is that I've been stuck in some Kix-in-the-future feels and I was partially inspired by Esprit de Corps and this is the outcome of that. I was going to wait to write all of this before posting, but I've just started college (!!) so I'm posting this while I continue to work on the coming chapters and before my schedule gets too busy and the next thing I know, I haven't posted in 6 months. Chapter Title from “Brother How I Miss You” by Brian L Wells

Kix had thought he’d finally adjusted to being fifty years in the future while he was with the Corsair’s crew. He had spent a good few years with them, after all. But with each passing day in the Resistance, that presented itself as untrue, and realization and revelation shocked him over and over. He hoped by now he’d gotten better at hiding his surprise. It tended to be suspicious if you startled at things that are old news to everyone else.

Not that he was necessarily hiding his past. It was just… less than desirable to talk about. Fifty years in the future, the last of the vode1. Fifty years in the future, fighting against not the first but the  _ second  _ government that decided to ruin everything he'd been fighting for in the Clone Wars. Fifty years in the future, fighting under General Skywalker's children, who were both physically older than him. (And what an odd jumble of confusion and I-knew-he-was-with-Senator-Amidala that'd been.) Fifty years in the future, working in a medbay for the Resistance because at least this was familiar. Fifty years in the future, and lots of medical history and technology to figure out quickly. Fifty years in the future, and utterly  _ alone _ .

He hadn't made any friends since leaving the pirate crew. Where was the need? He talked with, joked with the other medics. Nagged the members he realized landed themselves in the medbay often. Kix was fine. Acquaintances were plenty. Besides, it wasn't the same as the vode, and if accidental time travel taught him anything, he didn't want to experience that kind of loss again. It was war; friends equaled loss and he could survive without either, thanks. 

Medbays anywhere in a war felt the same. The rush and desperation right after a battle. Staring down those who tried to escape bedrest. Guiding patients through their recoveries. Berating those who pulled stupid stunts during the time between battles. It was almost like having Fives and Hardcase around sometimes. Not quite. Too much had changed since then. 

"Kix, next patient's yours," Doctor Kalonia alerted him. He nodded and prepped his station. His shift started minutes ago, so the heads-up was appreciated. 

The next patient was a light purple Twi'lek with a sprained ankle from tripping during a drill. He set to wrapping it once he checked the extent of the sprain. 

"Now, how'd that happen?" he questioned. Just because he didn’t have friends didn't mean he'd lost his bedside manner. 

"I tripped over a branch I hadn't seen," she answered almost bashfully. "I've sprained it before, so it flared up again."

"This is definitely more than a flare-up," he replied easily. He practically sensed Jesse behind him, saying  _ yeah, no duh, Kix. _ He shoved the thought aside. "I'm guessing that means you can care for it properly?” She nodded and he produced a bag of ice. "Great. Thirty-minute intervals on and off. Call me over after three or four hours — or another medic if I'm unavailable — and we'll move onto the next step."

She nodded again and accepted the ice. Kix took that as his cue to move on. Next step: checking in on one of the Y-Wing pilots who'd collected quite a list of injuries on the last mission. 

"Hey, Zactre," he greeted, looking over the datapad at the end of the bed. "How's the pain today?"

"Agonizing," the brunet man responded with a shadow of a smile. It was a response a number of vode would have given him, back when…

Kix offered his own grin. “That’s a step up from a few days ago. Looks like you’re healing on track with what we expected.”

“That’s good to know.”

“It always is. How are you mentally? I know firsthand medbays can get boring.”

“I’m fine. Same old, same old. Stare at the wall, watch medics struggle with people like Dameron and Austen, sleep.”

“You up for some company? I can spare some time here before I move on.”

“Sure, that’d be great.” Kix sat on the bedside chair, giving his full attention.

The duo fell into an easy back and forth. While he enjoyed it, the back of his mind kept nudging Kix.  _ No friends _ , it reminded.  _ This isn’t the brothers you are missing.  _ The medic shoved those thoughts down and tried to keep the light-hearted tone he’d been using.

“What is your home planet like, if I may ask?”

Zactre sighed wistfully. “It’s amazing. I grew up on Iru, which is Mid-Rim. It’s mostly oceanic, but we lived on the land. We lived further out in the country, with a small farm of our own. Cloud coverage is nearly constant, so when the sun came out, we made an ordeal of it. My sisters would pick flowers, especially on those days, and we’d help around the farm. Just our family and crops and animals. Our own little corner of the galaxy. Both of my sisters and I grew up there, born and raised. I can’t imagine my family anywhere else in my childhood.”

Kix hummed. “Sounds peaceful.”

“It was. Even now, there’s still some peace. That’s part of why I fight: so others can experience the peace and serenity I grew up with.”

The only peace Kix experienced was moments between battles or campaigns, and even those had some sense of alertness in them. On leave, too. In those stolen moments of teasing, learning, sparring, bonding, living, being. His entire life otherwise, from decantation to now, involved action and being a soldier, even if he was a medic. Just thinking about it made his heart ache yet again for the vode. 

“You okay there?” Zactre’s soft question snapped him from his thoughts. He shook his head and refocused.

“Yeah, sorry. What you said just made me think about my own family.”

“Oh.” Zactre looked a tad startled. Kix didn’t think he knew he was a clone, or out of time. No matter what, Kix’s words had not been what he’d been expecting. Unless it was more how he said it. “Can you tell me about them? If you’re comfortable with that, that is.”

Kix gulped and steeled himself. Talking, even a bit, will help, he reminded himself. “Maybe a bit. Give me a moment.”   
  


Zactre gave his acknowledgment and watched as Kix shifted in the chair, now leaning forward, forearms on his thighs. 

“I grew up with a lot of brothers.”  _ That’s one way of putting it.  _ Shut it, Jesse-thoughts. “We never knew peace, not in the way you did. But we enjoyed what we found. We stuck together, helped one another, watched each other’s backs. Rule number one: never leave a brother behind and all that.”

_ Cheer up, focus on the good memories. Like Rex walking into a pipe, supposedly, or being thrown off a wall. _ Shut. Up. Faux-Jesse thoughts.

“Where are they now? Anyone else in the Resistance?” Kix’s walls slammed down. The man was simply curious, he chided himself. He didn’t know; talking will help.

“I’m the last one.” The words, more to himself than Zactre, hung in the air. Something in his chest coiled. It had been years and those words still stabbed and twisted at him like the first time the realization popped in his mind.

“I’m so sorry,” Zactre whispered, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to—” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Another attempt at a smile. Kix had a feeling this one looked more like a grimace; it felt more like one. “It’s been a while. I should get more used to talking about it.”   
  


“Still.”   
  


Patient and medic sat in relative quiet in the following moments. Kix found himself opening the datapad and scanning over it, even though he had done so already. Clanging, chattering and beeping from the other end of the medbay sounded out. The mess, first white noise, rang louder than all but his thoughts.

He stood abruptly. “I should go check on Yimma. I’ll see you on my next shift. Get some rest, Zactre.”

“See you. Will do.”

With those words, Kix moved on, slipping into a single-focus mind. He didn’t have time to dwell on thoughts or imaginations. The Jesse-thoughts, especially, he shut down. He was fifty years in the future. The grief, nostalgia, and stress probably caused it. So he wasn’t coping as well as he presented or should be. The fact that he understood that was a step forward. Focus on the patients; nothing else mattered until his shift ended.

Back in his quarters hours later, the thoughts hit full force.  _ Kriff,  _ why did it hurt so badly still? He’d lost brothers before, he experienced grief and loss through time; he understood intimately what occurred. This situation he was in took that and shoved it out the airlock. It was unlike anything he’d experienced and was unlike anything any other sentient had lived through.

The medic sat down on his bed and ran a hand through his hair. His earlier thinking must’ve gotten to him, as he nearly startled when he felt hair and not the shaved design of years past. 

He used to get a vod2 to help him shave it, and he’d do whatever they needed hair-wise in return. Usually, it’d been Jesse or Hardcase. A shave for a more intricate shave. Without either of them and on the move more than some of the busiest months of war with the pirates, he’d stopped and hadn’t bothered since. It wasn’t the only reason, but it was the easiest to admit. 

_ Force, _ he missed the vode. The shenanigans that tended to end with him patching Fives up. Listening to Echo’s comebacks when he and Fives talked. The Captain’s care for his men and how often he appeared in the medbay to make sure they grasped that knowledge and held it firm. Keeping an eye open for whatever consequences came from Hardcase’s liveliness; his batchmate attracted trouble like light did moths.

He missed Jesse. His best friend, his other batchmate, who had a snarky comment at the ready without fail. The sarcasm he’d listen to nearly every day with the 501st. Thinking back on memories of the shenanigans Jess and Case roped him into made his heart clench. The laughter and happiness that came from them then felt foreign now. He lost so much. Kix lost  _ everything  _ he cared for most.

It was going to be one of those nights, huh?

Kix braced himself for what he knew was ahead as his thoughts launched themselves into a wave of nostalgia and grief. Tonight was destined to be a sleepless one. 

  
  
  


There was a ghost on the base. At least, that was the conclusion Finn came to upon seeing a translucent blue-ish man wandering around, nigh oblivious to anything else. With his freshly begun training to hone his Force-sensitivity, the obvious conclusion would be Force ghosts. But the man didn’t look like any Jedi or Sith Finn had seen in holos, textbooks, or in person, which left him wondering. 

A week after looking out for the ghost, Finn came to another conclusion: there were multiple ghosts. They appeared individually, so perhaps they were shy? Some of them wore armor similar — but different — to the stuff the First Order gave the stormtroopers. (If his memory served him,) the ‘troopers back with the Empire had a similar design. That slight difference, though, was worth noting. Others wore what looked like formal uniforms. Still military, perhaps for those who didn’t see as much action.

After another week, a realization smacked him in the face: they were identical. Er,  _ mostly  _ identical. He scolded himself for not noticing that detail sooner. The same face, but different haircuts, hair color, and tattoos. It wasn’t a single man throughout his life. They all walked and held themselves differently. Similarly, like they’d received the same training, but separately enough someone who had gone through a uniform-training structure like Finn could tell them apart.

Some of them showed up more often than others. A man with lighter hair, wearing a pauldron and kamas. One with an Aurebesh five on his temple and a goatee, with two pauldrons and kamas. Another with a handprint on the right of his chest plate, also with kamas and pauldrons. How many of them had those?

Geometrical lines danced across the armor and face of the one he saw second-most often. He didn’t have any pauldrons or kamas, just standard armor with designs. Finn saw him around more often than the ones with the extra armor or those in standard armor that popped up every purple moon. Not the highest amount of sightings, but pretty fragging often. 

The man Finn saw the most, however, had a giant cog tattooed over the upper left half of his face. He switched between two sets of armor — one with pauldrons and kamas and one without — and the formal uniform. None of the others seemed to have the ability to change. Whatever caused it, Finn had no idea. He didn’t think Force-ghosts could change their clothes, but then again, he still wasn’t sure if they were Force-ghosts or not.

None of the ghosts ever bothered Finn, so he left them to their own dealings. From what he learned so far, the Force worked in complicated ways he wouldn’t understand yet. This was one of the times he’d have to believe and let it do its thing. If the ghosts were to be significant in his life, he would find out when he found out.

As weeks passed, Finn kept an eye out for the ghosts. Maybe multiple will finally appear at once. Or they’d try to grab his attention. Possibly Finn was curious for curiousness’ sake. It didn’t matter. He began to pick up on where he saw them the most often. 

The mess hall, down by the medbay, wandering around outside, a few times by the barracks. Once, even in the hangar when squads resupplied. They never said anything he caught. Mostly, they stood guard and watched the Resistance function, observed friends and family and units interact. 

No ghosts occupied the room he and Rey stood in, preparing for another round of sparring. Lightsabers set to training mode, they were working on putting some of their newly acquired skills to the test. Rey’s two yellow ones resembled her staff; she worked to adapt her old skill to something she shouldn’t touch the ends of. Finn’s lightsaber was blue, and he was adapting what he learned with the First Order and in the duel with Ren into his own fighting.

Rey launched herself forward and Finn moved to block. Block, block, strike. He dodged to the left. Strike, dodge right. Jump over a leg sweep. Strike low, block high. Push back, block low. They took a step back and paused. Block high left. Rey spun out to his other side. Block high right. 

A few more blocks and strikes, then BAM!

Finn miscalculated Rey’s momentum, or she miscalculated her own. Either way, the joint section of her lightsabers smacked him across the nose.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Finn!” Rey deactivated her sabers and rushed forward.

He touched his upper lip, fingers coated in blood when he pulled his hand away. Ah. He turned off his own saber. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he reassured Rey.

“Still, you should go to the medbay. We’ve gotten enough sparring rounds in today, anyway. That definitely needs to be reset.” She tapped her own nose in about the same spot Finn’s broke.

She had a point: they’d been sparring for a few hours now. Rey led him to the medbay and got him situated before going off to update Master Skywalker. A medic took over, shoving a box of tissues at him and told him to wait until the blood flow slowed before they moved on. She then stepped to the side to treat another patient. 

He waited on a bed near the door, facing towards the rest of the bay as he sat. Tissues pressed under his nose, he scanned the others, surveying everything from clumsy mishaps like his patched up to long-term patients to a regular check-up taking place. 

That was odd.

One of the ghosts stood behind one of the medics. He was talking to the medic? The medic didn’t seem to detect him, his head bent down as he fixed a Twi’lek’s ankle, only his black hair visible. If he strained his ears, he managed to just make out what they said. 

“This is definitely more than a flare-up,” the medic said in response to whatever the Twi’lek must have said. 

The ghost rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no duh.” He said something else Finn missed, a large clang from the bed over overtaking the sound. 

Finn startled as the medic straightened. He looked  _ just like _ the ghost. Besides the tattoo and hair situation, they definitely had the same face. He’d seen the medic, too, around base. At the mess hall, passing through the hallways, by the medbay, obviously. It all clicked: the ghosts followed this medic around. 

Why? Given their identicalness, they had to be a family. Why would the Force allow this family to follow this medic around when the medic couldn’t see them? Was the medic the last of them? Who were they? Finn needed to look into this once he got out of the bay. 

He snapped back to reality in time to see the medic moving to his next patient.

“Hey, Zactre,” the medic greeted. Finn knew of Zactre; his squadron paired up with Poe’s here and there.

“Zactre, buddy!” ghost-man exclaimed even though Zactre certainly didn’t notice him. He sat at the end of the bed. Huh, that was new. Finn missed what the medic said due to his translucent companion speaking.

“Agonizing,” Zactre responded. 

Finn switched out yet another blood-soaked tissue. It was slowing, but wow, what a lot of blood.

A smile broke across the ghost’s face. “Spoken like a vod!” 

The medic bristled for a second like he heard the ghost. “That’s a step up from a few days ago.” He continued on. Or he hadn’t heard. “Looks like you’re healing on track with what we expected.”

Zactre answered more questions while Finn and the ghost watched. At one point, the ghost yawned and stated, “This is more boring than I remembered.” Other than that, the two living beings interacted without interruption. 

Soon enough, they began to talk about Zactre’s home planet. More clangs rang out near Finn, but he ignored them, trying to stay focused on the conversation, eavesdropping as it may be. 

“It’s mostly oceanic, but we lived on the land. We lived further out in the country, with a small farm of our own. Cloud coverage is nearly constant, so when the sun came out, we made an ordeal of it.”

The ghost raised an eyebrow. “Almost sounds like Kamino.” Zactre unknowingly continued on.

“Sounds peaceful,” the medic stated.

“Sure does,” the ghost agreed. He closed his eyes like he was picturing it himself.

The black-haired man went silent, gazing at the floor. His ghost-relative leaned over and waved a translucent hand in front of his face before pausing and pulling it back. He frowned, perhaps remembering that wouldn’t work. 

Zactre said something Finn didn’t catch. It caught the medic’s attention, though, and made him look up. Finn’s attention was drawn away as his own medic made her presence known. “Done bleeding?”

Finn took the tissue off his face and glanced at it. “I think so.”

“That’s good.” She took to resetting his nose, dealing with the necessary healing things, and giving him an ice pack. “You can stay here for a while while you ice, but you’re free to go if you’d rather.”

“Thanks. I’ll stay.”

She walked away and he just caught the medic’s next words. “I grew up with a lot of brothers.”

The ghost snorted. “That’s one way to put it.” 

The medic’s eyebrows furrowed momentarily, again like he heard the ghost. Then, he elaborated, sharing more along the lines of what Finn had caught of what Zactre said about his childhood. As he talked, his frown deepened and his head bowed further into his chest. 

Zactre watched silently, the ghost saying something Finn missed. His back presented itself to Finn and although he was see-through, that didn't make his mouth visible. Finally, Zactre said something softly, the medic responding equally quietly. 

Across the room, Finn sensed the mourning rolling in waves off the medic. Whatever came up, the topic was not one the man touched often, it seemed. Zactre looked guilty, glancing between his hands and the medic. The ghost stood and crouched by the chair. 

"C'mon vod, you were doing so well. You  _ are _ doing so well with all of this. Don't shut down now. I wish I could hug you, but…" he trailed off, voice rueful. 

That was more than enough observing. Finn stood. Glancing around the rest of the spacious room, he gave a small wave to the woman who patched him up and headed out the doors. 

He had some research to do. 

  
  


For some reason, Jesse could follow Kix around. Well, not  _ just _ Jesse, but he was the one who did so the most often. The Force (that’s what this was, right?) was as complex in the afterlife as it had been when alive. All the vode were together and for some reason, the Force allowed one of them to appear in the living world tethered to the medic. Why only one? They tried two at a time but quickly found out it was painful and impossible.

It began when the stasis container Kix occupied opened, too. They hadn’t been able to manifest before. Years they had spent wondering what happened to the one missing vod only to find out Dooku froze him. Upon his release, they, too, were released in a sense. Wherever Kix moved, whoever appeared for the day found themselves not too far from where he stood. 

Jesse personally hadn’t tested how far they could stray. He’d rather follow his batchmate around, making jokes and talking to him like old times. Kix never did, but that didn’t stop him. A small part of him hoped by doing so, Kix would magically gain the ability to hear him. Rather unrealistic, honestly, but it didn’t stop him.

Hardcase, on the other hand, did test it out a few times. Fives, too, and whoever else they managed to coax into their experiment. They were collecting data, trying to understand how exactly this Force thing worked. As far as they knew, no Jedi appeared among the vode to give them answers. Whether they had their own section of the Force or the Force was making them wait until Kix died for all of them to be sent into a larger section of the Force was unclear. Just thinking about it made Jesse’s head hurt. Because apparently, even death didn’t prevent pain.

They easily moved into adjoining rooms from their living brother. Adjoining wings, even. Rex had examined resupplying in the hangar when Kix had been in the mess hall one day, claiming he was evaluating the Resistance’s efficiency. Echo found out they could be on different floors, in spots where the building had multiple, on accident when he lost track of Kix one day. Hardcase was attempting to leave the base soon.

It was all so different from when Kix had been with a pirate crew. Then, it was vital whoever manifested stuck next to him. They never stopped, always on the move. Unless on the ship, in which case, they roamed from bow to stern. But after being offered a spot as a medic for the Resistance after saving some of their pilots one day, that was no longer the case. Kix stayed on base, only joining battles when absolutely necessary. Otherwise, he worked in the medbay, going about doing his own thing, and didn’t notice his brothers shadowing him. 

Everyone who manifested appeared in the armor they wore when they interacted with Kix. For Hardcase, that included anywhere from cadet uniforms to Umbara, though he never chose cadet clothing. The Captain had one set of armor, along with most brothers who visited him. Echo had pre- and post-Citadel but he rather liked his limbs, thanks for asking. Jesse, like Hardcase, had choices from when they were itty-bitty batchmates all the way to his ARC armor. He switched between his two main sets of armor, depending on his mood each day. Those who’d been close to Kix also had the formal uniform, but that was only chosen based on comfort needs of the day. Jesse was the only one to materialize in the formal uniform— most men decided to leave that for when they were in the Force.

That morning, Jesse had been willing to let someone else accompany Kix. Yes, he knew he materialized the most, Hardcase being the only other person who did so quite that often. Yes, he understood others wanted to have a chance to see him. Kix had had friends outside of his batchmates, he recognized that. He let them have turns and he would continue to let them. 

But his brothers insisted he go today. Hardcase even shoved his back, attempting to make him walk forward. 

“Ugh, come  _ on,  _ Jess, you’re going today and that’s final.”

“Why are you pushing me? Where are we going?” he deflected. He planted his feet firmly, making it harder for his batchmate to push him. “You do know there isn’t a portal we go through, right? Do you remember? Or do we need Coric or someone to check you for a concussion?”

Fives smirked, walking at a smoother pace than his two brothers. “As amusing as that would be—” Hardcase let out an indignant scoff— “Case is right, vod.”

“And what, exactly, makes him right?”

“I can’t explain it, exactly, but it’s a feeling.”

“A feeling?” An eyebrow raised. “Like an ARC-intuition one or a Jedi-Force one?”

Fives scowled. “Do I look like a Jedi to you? How’d I be able to get a Jedi one, then?”

“I agree with Fives,” Echo spoke up from beside his fellow ARCs. “It  _ needs _ to be you, Jesse. I don’t fully understand why, but it’s you today. Plus, you look like you’d benefit from it.”

“Now what’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”

They didn’t answer him, instead pushing him forward until they got to the Captain who confirmed what they were saying. Before he knew it, Jesse materialized on the base, pre-ARC armor on, and began to accompany his best friend. 

Following Kix around the medbay could be fun at times. It was practically the same as back on the Resolute when he found himself bored, and the instinct to annoy the closest brother was too strong to pass up. He made the same sort of comments he would then, even if inaudible. 

His brothers’ gut instinct that morning proved true. The morning went as smoothly as any other. When Kix’s shift began, however, things changed. Kix started off in a pleasant mood, but the medic’s frown deepened as he and Zactre shared information about their pasts. Now that wouldn’t do. He was just beginning to open up some.

“Cheer up, focus on the good memories,” he prompted, knowing the words fell on deaf ears. “Like Rex walking into a pipe, supposedly, or being thrown off a wall. Or that one time Hardcase painted a gunship to resemble an air-whale. How about when Fives got stuck in the trash compactor?”

As predicted, Kix didn’t respond to him. Zactre spoke up first. “Where are they now? Anyone else in the Resistance?” 

“I’m right here! Technically, yes and no,” Jesse said with a half-laugh. 

“I’m the last one.”

He soaked in the silence for a minute, then stood and crouched by the chair his brother sat in. “C'mon vod, you were doing so well. You  _ are _ doing so well with all of this. Don't shut down now. I wish I could hug you, but…”

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He glanced over and paused. 

Someone was looking at him. Not at Kix or Zactre. Not at the bed or the wall.  _ Him.  _ The young man tensed, grabbed his things, and left. Interesting. Did he see Jesse? Was it some odd coincidence? He’d have to look into that, test it out. Looks like he had his own experiment to study. He filed the information away for later, focusing once more on his brother.

Kix stood and walked over to who must be Yimma. Jesse trailed behind him, at a loss of what to do. He watched as Kix shut down, focusing only on what was in front of him. All conversations with him became purely medicinal and on point. No more joking, no more small talk. 

“Kix,” Jesse tried anyway. “Kiiiiiix. Kixster. Kix-man. The man, the myth, the medic.” He chuckled at that last one. “I know you can’t hear me, but please cheer up.”

Had Jesse been alive, he’d be facing a cold shoulder. As it was, well, it looked the same, even if it wasn’t. He reached out and poked Kix, but his finger didn’t stop and went through the medic. Kix shivered. Hmm… maybe he could affect Kix, even if it was shivering. That was good to know. Why could he sit on beds but not touch Kix? The Force perplexed him more and more as time passed. 

“Do  _ not  _ get off that bed,” Kix reprimanded his patient, gently pushing her shoulder back down into the mattress. “Your injuries aren’t healed enough. Think of it this way: if you stay down now, you’ll be cleared for action sooner.”

“Ha, that’s something that you’re never going to stop saying, isn’t it?” He thought back to hearing the same message, along with Kix saying it to Fives, Hardcase, a multitude of shinies, and practically anyone in the 501st submitted in the medbay.

Jesse made more comments as the shift passed. Other than the shiver, Kix didn’t nudge. None of the almost-reactions he’d given earlier. His focus was laser-sharp and nothing broke through. Despite this, Jesse persisted. Reaction or not, he needed some sort of normalcy right now and he’d take what he could get. Echo was right: he was benefiting from this, even if it wasn’t completely what he wanted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Brothers, clones as a whole in this case Back  
> 2\. Brother, singular Back
> 
> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on my tumblr @lifeofclonewars if you want


	2. Help Me Get My Feet Back On The Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn acts on his research. Kix reflects on his choice of lack of friends. Jesse's suspicions continue to rise.
> 
> Title from "Help!" by The Beatles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy December, here's a chapter I worked on instead of finishing a project

Finn’s research led him to learn some interesting facts. One: he had learned a skewed version of this in the First Order. Two: the records the Republic had on this topic differed vastly from the ones the First Order shared. Three: the ghosts and, consequently, the medic were without a doubt clones. Four: not only were they clones, but they were also _t_ _he_ clone troopers from the Clone Wars that raged across the galaxy before the rise of the Empire. 

He didn’t know where to go from there.

His interest in the medic piqued with his expanded knowledge. But he didn’t want to risk becoming friends with him only to use him for more information. As a result, he waited, sitting on the information and letting himself digest what it meant. He noted when he saw the ghosts or the medic around the base. It didn’t happen often; Finn was busy with his training and other responsibilities, and he was sure the medic had his hands full in the medbay.

The few glimpses he caught matched his research. The man walked with a strong purpose, a fluid, almost march-like gait even though Finn never saw him on the front lines. Somewhere in his past, he had been. It mirrored the ghosts: similar posture, similar walk, yet unique to him. His gestures mimicked a few of the ghosts, perhaps those he spent the most time with when they’d all been alive.

First Order propaganda pushed for excellence in their troops; be like the clone troopers who helped usher in the Empire triumphantly, they said. They spun tales of the superiority of those troops, the missions they accomplished. Never had they shown the individuality of the clones in their armor, hair, tattoos, _being_. No glimpses of their humanity slipped into the lessons. Watching the ghosts and the medic, connecting the dots, sent a shock through Finn’s system, but it was a welcome one. 

“Do you know anything about him?” Finn asked Poe, subtly gesturing towards the medic where he sat alone across the mess hall one day a few weeks after his research began.

Poe glanced over quickly. “Him? Yeah, he’s patched me up a few times. He’s a medic, joined around the same time as you, I think.”

“That all?”

Poe’s fork tapped his tray twice. “He’s friendly, but I’ve never been able to get him to tell me anything about himself. Why? Looking for another friend?”

“What if I am?”

Jaw dropping, Poe’s hand resting on his chest in mock offense. “Am I not a good enough friend?” When Finn raised an eyebrow at him, the pilot continued. “Kidding. Make all the friends you want, go crazy.”

“I just might.” With that, the duo moved on to talking about the stunt Rey pulled two days prior. Sure, she’d been training to be a Jedi, but it had been a sight.

A week later, Finn walked into the mess. Poe was out on a mission with his squad, Rey off completing lessons with Luke Skywalker. He glanced around and noticed the medic sitting alone. Again. The ghost next to him didn’t count. Here was his opening. The guy looked like he needed some friends.

He approached the table, paused beside it, and waited for the black-haired man to look up. “Can I help you?” he said once he did.

“Hi, can I sit with you? My friends aren’t here and I could use some company.” The medic could probably use some company, but Finn wasn’t going to say that out loud. 

The man raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”

Finn took the seat across from the man. “My name is Finn. I’ve seen you around base a few times, and you seem friendly and I’ve been working on talking to more people.” Which wasn’t a lie — Finn had been trying to extend the people he knew to more than Rey, Poe, and the various people he had to work with. Interactions outside of that helped expand his understanding of the Resistance and First Order better than any research he did. 

“Kix,” the man replied. Ah, yep, that sounded like a trooper name. “I’m a medic. Sorry, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

“That’s fine, I’ve been busy,” he responded easily. “Though you might know me as the guy who got slashed by Ren’s lightsaber on the back and who now has his own.”

Kix snapped and pointed at him. “That I did hear. Kinda wish I’d joined a month earlier. I’d have been able to help with that.”

“You have experience with saber-wounds?”

“Something like that.” The ghost next to him snorted and rolled his eyes.

Finn tried to not let his eyes drift toward the ghost, but he knew that would be a losing fight. For now, he focused on beginning to eat. Continuing, he said, “Have you always been a medic?”

“Basically. I’ve been one for—” he paused, looking to the side momentarily, eyebrows furrowing— “about ten years of my life, now, if I remember how old I was when I started correctly. How long you been a Jedi?”

“I’m not a Jedi yet,” came out of Finn’s mouth before he could think about it.

Kix raised an eyebrow. “Training to be a Jedi, then.”

“You said you got here about a month after I got the saber-wound, right?” At the medic’s nod, he continued. “Then about as long as you’ve been here. That’s when Rey — she’s also training with me — came back with Luke Skywalker and around the time I woke up. Before that, I just thought I had good gut instincts and luck.”

“From what I’ve heard and seen, isn’t that most of what being a Jedi is, anyway?” 

He chuckled. “You’ve got me there.” 

Did he know Finn defected from the First Order? That was usually something most people he met mentioned right away. It was common knowledge around the base a stormtrooper had joined their side of the fight. People tended to get curious and ask lots of questions once they realized it was him. And yet, Kix had mentioned nothing of the sort so far. Was he being polite or did he not know? 

Distracted by his thoughts, it took Finn a moment to realize the two of them lapsed into silence, digging into their respective meals. The ghost next to Kix drummed his fingers on the table, looking around and whistling. As the silence stretched, he grew more restless. Finn’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to whatever he was doing, sharply reminding himself to focus back on his food as to not look like he was going crazy. 

The ghost huffed. “You know, Kix, you sure can be boring when you’re not working and you can’t hear me. Look at the poor man. You’re going to bore him to death, and that’s the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to do as a medic.”

Kix once again didn’t react to him, continuing to pick around his food. Finn swallowed his own mouthful. He didn’t know where to go next with the conversation, so he picked a random thought and threw it out there. 

“So, if you’re a medic, you’ve got to have some interesting injury stories to tell, right?”

The ghost split into a wide grin while the medic looked up and raised both his eyebrows. “Yes, but there’s always medic-patient confidentiality.” 

Finn waved a hand. “Okay, then how about ones that were common knowledge because everyone saw it happen. That’s allowed, right?”

The ghost started laughing. “Oh, man, there’s so many leave-mishaps and hyperspace-shenanigans you can share.”

He thought for a moment. “Well, there are a few from when I wasn’t on shift, so I guess I can tell you some of those.” 

“Please be the elbow incident. Please be the elbow incident. Please be the elbow incident,” the ghost chanted, crossing his fingers.

Kix spoke over the ghost, who cut himself off to see if he was right. “One time, I was trying to take a nap when suddenly two of my brothers burst into the room, trying to get my attention. Of course, I wake up, only to see one of them with their elbow stuck in a notch in the other’s armor.” He shook his head to himself while the ghost cheered and celebrated his correct guess. “They tended to, uh, show their affection by pushing each other around more than anyone else I saw. Which included a lot of punching and headlocks. Anyway, one of them was elbowing the other and got his elbow stuck in the armor.”

“Did you help them get unstuck?”

The medic scoffed. “No, I told them to either figure it out themselves or go to the medbay, where someone on duty could figure it out, then fell right back asleep. I had just pulled a double shift, there was no way I was going to deal with either of them at that moment.”

Finn smiled. “Sounds like a fun set of brothers. I don’t exactly have any myself to compare them with.” He paused. “You said two of your brothers, how many did you have?” Maybe a little too on the nose for the information he was wondering about, but it was a reasonable line of thought from what was just shared. Right?

“A lot,” Kix and the ghost said in unison. The ghost tilted his head from side to side, rolling his eyes like he’d heard this answer before. _Focus, Finn._ “They’re the main focus of… mmm… all the odd injury stories I have.”

“Any others you feel like sharing?”

This time, he smirked, and the ghost shrunk back. “Oh, no. I know that look. This one’s about me, isn’t it.”

“Yeah, sure. There was this one time I was walking down a hallway, headed down to lunch, when another one of my brothers walked up to me, clutching his hand."

The ghost groaned. "It _is_ about me."

Kix continued, unaware. "I asked what happened, and he told me — I’m not making this up — he was tapping on his bed frame along to some music and underestimated his strength. His hand almost went through the durasteel, leaving a dent and breaking multiple bones in his hand. I walked him over to the medbay, handed him off to someone else, and went to go get lunch for the both of us because, apparently, he was going to ignore his hand and go eat with me.”

Finn laughed. “That’s quite the story.”

“That’s only the tip of the iceberg. They’re all lucky they survived as long as they did.” 

Kix frowned, eyebrows furrowing as what he said sunk in. They sat in silence once again. He deserved the time he needed. Even if this conversation didn’t go any further, Finn got more information he was looking for. More than that, however, Kix was a fun guy to talk to and seemed like a great person to have as a friend, and Finn had learned over the years to trust his gut. 

From now on, getting to know Kix personally took higher priority over finding out more about the clone troopers. He could practically see the two switch places in his head on his nonexistent checklist. If the latter was a side effect of the former, great! But he wasn’t going to think about that right now. He was going to figure out how to make this lonely medic his friend, even if it took all he had.

* * *

Kix had, apparently, needed the breakdown a few weeks before. After, he felt a tad better, and he was back to what had become his normal state of mind and routine. It happened at times. He didn’t particularly feel like he was bottling up his emotions — or, moreso, his negative emotions — but with this well on its way to becoming a cycle, it made him pause and wonder. 

If anything, it reinforced what Kix already knew a thousand times over: clones weren't made for isolation. They just weren't. The Kaminoans specifically engineered them to be more social to promote cohesive teamwork. Even the most introverted of vode1 found themselves most comfortable by batchmates and squad members.

He had seen firsthand the effects of isolation on troopers, on those who lost their closest brothers and shut themselves off from the rest. It never exactly ended well and always led Kix to wish they had a therapist and meds for psych stuff on board. But _nooo_ , clones were “engineered to resist mental illness,” like that actually worked or something. The medics were no more qualified than their COs to deal with it, and yet they were the ones first reached out to. It didn't take long for the CMOs to set up a chat and share research on how to deal with it, which then got sent to the rest of the medics.

So even though Kix wasn't actively looking for friends, he at least began to stop pushing others away, even on the bad days. Which, of course, included letting Finn talk to him when he asked in the mess. 

“So, if you’re a medic, you’ve got to have some interesting injury stories to tell, right?” Finn asked, leaning closer.

Kix raised his eyebrows at him. In the 501st Legion, there was no end to the odd and crazy injury stories. Despite this, he said, “Yes, but there’s always medic-patient confidentiality.” 

Even though he was the last one alive, it still applied. _Let’s not start down that spiral._

Finn waved his hand dismissively. “Okay, then how about ones that were common knowledge because everyone saw it happen. That’s allowed, right?”

There were always the injuries he saw but didn’t treat because he wasn’t on shift. Quite frankly, there were more of those than Kix would like, but for some reason, it was in the nature of Torrent Company to ask him before asking someone in the medbay. “Well, there are a few from when I wasn’t on shift, so I guess I can tell you some of those.” 

It was a matter of picking which scenario after that. There was Hardcase and the vent, Jesse and his hand, Tup getting his hair stuck in everything. Fives had more than a handful by himself but twice as many when Echo was around— 

Perfect.

“One time, I was trying to take a nap when suddenly two of my brothers burst into the room, trying to get my attention. Of course, I wake up, only to see one of them with their elbow stuck in a notch in the other’s armor.” 

He shook his head to himself, remembering the two ARCs somehow barging into the barracks, Fives' elbow stuck between Echo's pauldron and spaulder, unable to get the pauldron off for some reason. The two frequently ended up asking for a medic’s help after their stunts got them unnecessary injuries, but said incident had been on a different level of unexpected and confusing. 

“They tended to, uh, show their affection by pushing each other around more than anyone else I saw. Which included a lot of punching and headlocks. Anyway, one of them was elbowing the other and got his elbow stuck in the armor.”

Finn laughed. “Did you help them get unstuck?”

Kix scoffed. “No. I told them to either figure it out themselves or go to the medbay, where someone on duty could figure it out, then fell right back asleep. I had just pulled a double shift, there was no way I was going to deal with either of them at that moment.”

Torrent knew fragging well not to wake a sleeping off-duty medic, yet that never stopped them from trying to get help that way. He never found out if the duo had figured it out themselves or had gotten help in the bay, never bothering to ask. All he knew was when he woke up, Fives had his elbow back to himself and in a sling because getting it unstuck dislocated it. What a time. 

Grinning at the story, Finn said, “Sounds like a fun set of brothers. I don’t exactly have any myself to compare them with. You said two of your brothers, how many did you have?” 

_Over a couple million._ “A lot,” he stated instead. “They’re the main focus of… mmm… all the odd injury stories I have.” If the nat-born officers got injured, they followed protocol and went to the medics on duty, unlike his brothers. Any chance of telling the two or three funny stories with them certainly fell under confidentiality.

“Any others you feel like sharing?”

He smirked. There was the perfect Jesse injury story to tell. “Yeah, sure. There was this one time I was walking down a hallway, headed down to lunch, when another one of my brothers walked up to me, clutching his hand. I asked what happened, and he told me — I’m not making this up — he was tapping on his bed frame along to some music and underestimated his strength. His hand almost went through the durasteel, leaving a dent and breaking multiple bones in his hand. I walked him over to the medbay, handed him off to someone else, and went to go get lunch for the both of us because, apparently, he was going to ignore his hand and go eat with me.”

He missed making fun of Jesse for the incident. How do you almost punch through durasteel, and more importantly, how do you do it on accident? It did decrease the number of random injuries his batchmate got from off-battlefield incidents for a while, which was an unexpected positive side effect. If only it had lasted. 

Finn laughed. “That’s quite the story.” 

Kix chuckled in agreement. “That’s only the tip of the iceberg. They’re all lucky they survived as long as they did.” 

_Survived as long as they did_. Kriffing — why did Kix keep doing this to himself? He was trying to get away from that mindset, not whatever that was. 

Did Finn know he was a clone? That sentence was a big insight, and it’s not like Kix was backing away from too many details of the past this time around. He had said nothing yet, though, so maybe not. Few people on base did, anyway, regardless of if they lived through the Clone Wars or not. He ate more of his food, soaking in the silence. The minutes stretched until he cleared his throat.

“Sorry about that. Anyway, do you have any stories of your own to tell? From missions or Jedi-training or something?”

Finn did, launching into a story about a mission he went on involving an Outer Rim planet, native carnivorous plants, plans gone south, plenty of improvisated plans, and somehow recruiting a First Order junior officer into the Resistance. The kid now worked intelligence for the Resistance, it turned out, and Finn checked in on him once a week. 

His story caught Kix’s attention. He’d heard rumors around base about how a stormtrooper defected and joined them, though Finn mentioned a junior officer — not the same thing. Was Finn the stormtrooper? It would explain how he convinced the kid to come with him. 

Setting that train of thought aside, he focused on their main conversation: why they joined the Resistance. Kix talked about how he saved a few pilots who crashed near the pirate crew. (The mention of pirates made Finn raise an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask questions.) He talked about how it gave him a chance to help and work in a proper medbay again, something he was used to. Finn told him how he didn’t originally want to join the Resistance, he was just looking for an escape from his past life, but as he fought, he started to want to fight because of what it represented and gave to people. How the passion he gained started right before his fight against Ren and had only been growing since he woke up. How Luke Skywalker noticed his Force-sensitivity and began to train him in addition to everything else Finn did for the Resistance. 

Kix couldn’t help the smile growing on his face as he listened. There was a spark in Finn’s eye, a determination in his expression as he talked about the Resistance and what he was fighting for that reminded him of—

Nope, not starting down that path right now.

Regardless, their conversation was enjoyable. He wouldn’t mind talking to him again later — something which hadn’t happened for a time. His mind wandered back to his earlier thoughts. Clones weren’t meant to be isolated, and this conversation was proving Kix wasn’t an exception to that. 

Who was he kidding, he missed having friends and talking about things other than work and medical topics. As much as he enjoyed helping others, he had his limits.

“I’m glad you’ve found your place in all of this,” Kix commented as Finn finished his story, gesturing in a circle with his fork. “I’ve got a predetermined spot as a medic, but the rest of it is easy to get lost in.” 

He shrugged. “It wasn’t too hard to get going once I figured more out about myself.”

_Beep beep._

Kix glanced down at his chrono. “Ah, buyce bat taab2. I need to head to the medbay for my shift. It was nice to meet you, Finn. Feel free to say hi if you ever see me around.” He stood up from the table and gathered his things. 

The other man smiled. “If I ever land in the medbay again, I’ll try to make sure it’s when you’re on shift.”

They laughed. “If you can manage the timing. See you around.”

“See you around. It was nice to meet you too!” 

And with that, Kix headed off, putting his tray where he was supposed to, and exited toward the medbay. That wasn’t quite how he expected his meal to go, but he’d take it. In fact, he found himself thinking, he wouldn’t mind if it happened again in the future.

Clones were made to be social; Kix was not and never will be an exception. And as of right now, he was fine with that.

* * *

The conversation Kix had with Finn proved to be fruitful for Jesse. He teased and made fun of the medic, knowing still it fell on deaf ears. He even tried predicting some of the things the man would say — they were batchmates and best friends, after all. In addition to this, though, he saw Finn’s reactions to what he was doing. 

He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure what was going on with Finn, but something _was_ going on. The Jedi-in-training (but-not-quite-Padawan-in-the-way-he-understood, he reminded himself) glanced at his ghostly self far too many times for it to be a coincidence. If the afterlife he and his brothers existed in really was the Force, that would make sense, right? But the only way he would know for certain was if he asked a Jedi. And as it was, he wasn’t entirely sure if the one Jedi who had interacted with Kix saw him. 

Kriffing Force. Why did it have to be so complicated?

Anyway, there was always the probability Finn was glancing at something behind Jesse he didn’t catch. Or he was sensing something happening in one of the other rooms or however it worked. The newcomer had looked over enough to catch his attention, but he didn’t appear to be looking over at every chance he got. It was like something occasionally caught his attention, though his conversation with Kix never faltered. Ugh, uncertainties.

Just thinking about all these unknown variables reminded him of one leave where an inquisitive nat-born asked him about the Force, as if working with the Jedi meant he had unlocked the secrets of how they did things. Even now he snorted at the thought. Clones may have a slightly higher understanding of the Force than the general populace, but that still didn’t mean much when the size of the Force was factored in.

“Hold still please,” Kix ordered his patient, another case of a sprained ankle during training. Jesse knew cadet squads who had less collective sprained joints than the squads here. But they weren’t trained from birth to be soldiers. He had to keep that in mind.

“You never said please when I came to you with an injury to treat,” Jesse commented instead. 

His batchmate didn’t respond, though he bet if he did hear or Jesse had said it fifty years ago, the medic would say something along the lines of, “Then don’t get hurt pulling stupid stunts.” Or, more likely, “Then don’t come to me when I’m off-shift. There’s a whole medbay and team of medics across multiple squads for a reason.”

He had said both, back on the Resolute, in situations not dissimilar to the ones Finn heard today. 

Jesse grinned to himself. It was nice to see Kix talking to other people again. It’d been a long time since he seemed to enjoy a conversation — too long. If Kix and Finn became friends, not only would Jesse be able to figure out if he was visible to someone, but Kix would also cheer up and get out of the slump he’d been in since he’d woken from the cryo chamber. 

The medic was certainly in a better mood. As batchmates, Jesse could pick apart the subtleties in his behavior due to the sheer amount of time they spent together, but anyone could tell with this. He was joking more with his patients, smiling more freely, holding himself lighter in a way he didn’t anymore and definitely not like how he acted that one day a few weeks ago. All this from one conversation two hours ago. 

There was only one thing left to do besides waiting for Finn and Kix to become friends, one thing any set of batchmates would do: bug him to tears. Except there was the fact his brother couldn’t hear him. Instead, he settled for retesting his ability to touch things. Maybe, totally disregarding the previous times this didn’t work, he could move something and freak out Kix. 

“I’ll need to do a scan or two to determine what’s exactly wrong, but I think I can rule out Blue Shadow Virus,” Kix said to his next patient, who clearly had torn a ligament in their leg with the way it was propped up on the bed.

The patient shot him a confused look while Jesse groaned. “You’ve got to work on your medical humor, Kix-man.”

“I treated some people who—” he began to explain. “You know what, nevermind.” He pointed behind his shoulder. “I’ll go get the scanner.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and reached for the datapad Kix left on the bedside table. _Whoosh_. His hand went through it, leaving his fingers tingling.

He still didn’t get why he could sit and walk, but couldn’t touch people or things. If he ignored that touching people made them shiver, that is.

Anyway, Finn maybe-quite-possibly being able to see him still had his attention. Not only was he training to be a Jedi, but he was sure Finn was the deserted stormtrooper people around base talked about. (So maybe he was eavesdropping on people when he wasn’t following his brother around. It’s not like they would ever find out.) Kix didn’t seem to know, but Kix also didn’t seem to know much of what was going on that wasn’t directly linked to the medbay lately. Once he picked himself off the ground, he’d probably put together the details himself, see the similarities to their brothers Jesse noticed in how he moved and acted.

Did Finn know Kix was a clone? If so, how’d he figured it out? It wasn’t a secret, but it’s not like Kix talked about it. Maybe, if he did see Jesse, that’s how he made the connection. Maybe that’s why he talked to Kix in the first place. 

The scanner hovered over, Kix pushing it forward. “You should talk to Finn more. You need to figure out you have something to bond over.” He tried to pull on a panel on the scanner. His fingers hit each other, passing through the metal. 

Flipping the correct switches and pressing the right buttons, Kix got a scan going. He picked up the datapad Jesse tried to move and glanced over it. “It shouldn’t hurt. Say something if it does.”

The ARC continued to poke through — ha, unintentional pun, he thought to himself — the things on the table. “How should I get you and Finn to talk about that, though? Decisions, decisions. Should I trip him, make him end up in the medbay while you’re on shift?” He paused. “Would that even work? Do I poke him until he shivers enough to fall over? Nah, that’s not likely.”

He poked his best friend once more, getting the shiver he expected. “Are you okay?” the patient asked.

Kix gave an amused look. “I’m fine, just got some shivers. Happens whenever I’m in here for some reason, but I’ve gotten used to it. Maybe it’s the injury-proneness in the air.”

Jesse tsked. “Still not it, Kixster. Step up your game. I know you know non-medical jokes that are funny.” He lifted the bacta wraps.

Wait.

They were in his hand.

Holy kark, he was holding them. He was actually holding them. He managed to pick them up. Holy kark holy kark holy kark. What the kriff he did it how did he do it what changed this time oh my stars what is going on.

Without thinking much about it, he set it on top of the scanner. Right as it beeped. Oh, kark.

“Alright, let’s check those readings.” The medic turned around and paused, then turned back to his patient. “Did you see me set the wraps up there?” 

The patient shook their head. 

“I could’ve sworn… it doesn’t matter much. As I was saying—” He read the results, unaware of the ghost freaking out beside him. 

… he should try again, just in case.

When Kix turned back to the scanner, this time to pick up the wraps to address the cuts the patient had, Jesse moved. Small but simple. He nudged the box while he knew his brother had eyes on it. It moved. 

Kix blinked once, twice. 

“What.”

He shook his head and picked up the box, returning to his job. 

Holy karking eopie on a bantha. That happened. Jesse moved the box. Kix saw it happen. Kix reacted to the box moving. 

He tried once more, this time with a different box on the table. _Whoosh._ His finger passed through.

Jesse frowned. What changed? Taking a deep breath and shrugging to himself, he turned back to bugging the medic verbally. Only hours later, back with the rest of his brothers, did he realize he hadn’t felt the box when he picked it up, leaving him even more confused than before. 

Stupid Force, not making any sense anytime ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Brothers. Back  
> 2\. Helmet on a foot. Inspired by my own tendency to use funny alternatives to curse words. Back
> 
> Hey hey hey! I'm _not_ dead, wouldya look at that! Sorry for taking so long to get to Chapter 2-- college has been crazy! Idk how second semester will go. I'm taking 1 less class but I'm also actually getting a job so we'll see. Also, I came home for Thanksgiving so I'm home until January 7th per Corona-safety regulations, so that may influence some things. Hopefully, I'll post Chapter 3 before I head back. 
> 
> You may also notice that this fic now has 8 chapters when it originally started with 7. Well, my brain decided to add in an extra angst chapter which I already have a third of the way written lol. So Chapter 5 might be the chapter that comes the fastest after the previous one, but that's not for a bit. 
> 
> And thank you so much for all the excitement, comments, kudos, and bookmarks you guys have already given this! Love you guys! This got more popular than I ever expected it to-- it's already leaving my other fics in the dust on my stats page. Even the ones that have been up for years! So thank you guys for that! I honestly never saw it coming so I'm glad you all enjoy this so much.
> 
> Oh, and who Finn reminded Kix of? It was Fives. Watch TFA with that comparison in mind and tell me it doesn't fit I dare you. 
> 
> Feel free to yell at me more in the comments or on my Tumblr @lifeofclonewars (which might also have behind-the-scenes stuff on occasion)


	3. Don't You Dare Let Our Best Memories Bring You Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse talks to his brothers. Finn gets Rey in on his plans. Kix runs into a familiar old relic.
> 
> Chapter Title from "Lost Stars" by Adam Levine

“I’m telling you, man, I moved it!”

Fives scoffed. “It’s been three years, Jess. I highly doubt you’d suddenly be able to pick something up. That’s not how this ever works and you know that.”

Jesse crossed his arms. “And I’m telling you I know what I saw. I may not have _felt_ it, but I definitely _moved_ it.”

“I dunno, vod1. It’s a little suspicious to me you couldn’t feel it when you touched it. You can feel the chairs and stuff when you sit on them, right?” After his nod, Echo continued. “Then, by that logic, you’d have to feel the box to have moved it. You said yourself there’s Jedi on-base — maybe one of them moved it.”

“I didn’t see any of the Jedi around.”

“And when has that ever stopped them?” 

Kriff, Echo made a good point there. Jesse groaned. “Why do you have to be so logical all the time?”

Echo chuckled. “Not all the time, Fives can attest to that.”

The ARC to his left perked up. “Oh, yeah, definitely. Like that one time on Joralla—” 

“Alright, alright, no need to share it,” Echo protested from Jesse’s right, holding his hands up. 

“Anyway,” Jesse said, bringing the conversation back on topic, “I guess you want to hear other stuff that happened with Kix and Finn.”

“Nooo, we just came here to argue with you,” Echo responded, sarcasm dripping from the sentence.

Jesse offered him a small smile. “Finn reminds me of Fives, actually.”

Fives arched an eyebrow. “Me.”

He nodded. “You. Kix was thinking that too, I could tell.”

The duo glanced at each other, exaggerated disbelief blooming across their faces. “How would you know what he’s thinking? It’s not like you two are twins,” they said in unison. 

Rolling his eyes, Jesse shoved their faces away from him. “Haha, very funny guys.”

“We’re hilarious, you just have no sense of humor,” they, once again, responded together around his hands.

“ _Incoming!_ ” a voice shouted toward them, seconds before solid plastoid collided with his back. “How ya doing, my fellow ARCs?” A mass of blue tattoos, armor, and tanned skin that could only be Hardcase greeted. 

“You’re not an ARC, Case.” Jesse, somehow not on the ground, shuffled around to face his batchmate, putting some distance between them.

“I might’ve been, had I lived longer,” the heavy-gunner replied, wagging a finger toward him.

“Yeah, _maybe_.” 

Hardcase let it slide. “Whatcha talkin’ bout?”

“Jesse thinks he moved something yesterday, but that’s not the main point right now. Finn — he’s one of the Jedi, Jess thinks he can see us — talked to Kix in the mess yesterday. Said he reminds him and Kix of me, apparently,” Fives summarized.

“You?” He turned to Jesse. “So he’s passionate, quick-thinking on his feet?”

“Uh, yeah, basically. Good at improvisation, passionate about the cause, a bit talkative once he got going. He’s a former stormtrooper, so I want Kix to get him down to the range at least once and see if he’s as good of a shot, but I’m not sure how to get that to happen.”

Fives pursed his lips, a contemplative look to his eye. “Hm. Well, thanks, I guess?”

“Ah, like you didn’t already know that,” Hardcase said, waving a hand at him.

When Jesse turned to his right, Echo had an eyebrow raised. Jesse raised his own back at him.

When he didn’t say anything, Jesse waved his hand in front of his face. “Hello? You gonna share what you’re thinking about?”

Echo blinked. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s just — I was expecting for you to maybe say reckless or something similar.”

Jesse, Fives, and Hardcase all turned and looked at him. Echo stared back at them. “What?”

Fives passed Jesse and Hardcase to grab both his shoulders. “My lovely, annoying, crazy, occasionally-nice-to-me batchmate: you are just as, if not more, reckless than I am.”

The ARC stood there in silence, glancing between the other three of them. They waited patiently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he finally said stiltedly. “I follow the regs all the time, every day. Definitely no reckless plans here.”

“Uh-huh, sure, vod. That only works on the cadets who hear odd rumors about us. I could easily list ten times off the top of my head. Or, I could call over the rest of Domino who, ya know, watched us before the years Kix was in stasis hit and nobody could leave whatever this place is.”

“Did we ever figure out why it switched from everyone being able to watch their batchmates all the time to nobody to only one person following Kix?” 

“Don’t change the subject.”

Jesse sat on the ground, the others quickly following suit. Even after fifty years, the lack of chairs annoyed him to no end. “How about when Rex showed up with you and told us you were the second one to jump off a pipe and onto a keeradak after only the General himself? Or how you guilt-tripped Kix into letting you go talk to the generals about sending you back out onto the battlefield and they _let you_ while still recovering from,” he gestured vaguely, _“everything?”_

Echo crossed his arms. “To be fair, I was an escaping prisoner of war. That does weird stuff to your mind.”

“Yeah, _I know_ Echo, probably better than everyone else here right now. That’s also how I know that means all those memories I have of you doing insane stuff with Fives aren’t something my mind made up or misinterpreted.”

“Once again, Joralla,” Fives added.

Echo was now frowning at them, eyes narrowed. 

“Anyway, why are we trying to get Echo to understand he’s just as sane as the rest of us?” Hardcase asked. “We were talking about Finn. Now tell me: does he also have a penchant for explosions?”

Jesse turned toward his batchmate and laughed. “As far as he’s said, no, but none of us have seen him in action yet. So I’ll say it’s up in the air, if that makes you happy.”

A grin grew across his face. “Yes, yes it does.”

The sound of footsteps approached them. A quick glance told enough: it was the rest of Fives’ and Echo’s batch, coming to torment them again. “Su’cuy, vode!2” one of them called out. The three of them plopped down around the duo, making their arrangement into more of a circle. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ve been talking about things Jesse learned while visiting Kix yesterday. He met a former stormtrooper named Finn, so we’ve been talking about him,” Echo said.

“Kix is the medic who’s your batchmate, right?” Hevy directed toward Hardcase and Jesse.

Hardcase nodded. “That’s the one. Rex is shadowing him today, instead of one of us. It’s been a while since he’s had a turn.”

The other heavy-gunner nodded. “No offense, but why don’t you ever talk about your other batchmates visiting him?”

Hardcase flourished a gesture toward Jesse. Shaking his head, he explained, “We get along with the other two, but we never got as close with them as we did with Kix. I guess you could say we’re acquaintances? After we reached the 501st, they became friends with different people and we were promoted at different speeds than them. We don’t have all too many shared experiences after Kamino and our first few months in the legion. When we figured out we could visit Kix—” 

“You mean when you disappeared randomly one day and we all freaked out until you showed up that night telling us Kix had been released from a cryo pod?” Hardcase nudged his shoulder.

Jesse lightly slapped his brother’s hand away. “When we figured that out, they told me they’d be fine with me updating them every once in a while. Also, they didn’t survive as much of the war as we did, so there’s that.”

“They didn’t follow you two around after they died, then?” Droidbait inquired.

Hardcase shrugged. “They chose to follow around the remainder of the squads they had been in by then. If it helps, I spent a good chunk of time haunting Kix and Jesse after I died.”

Jesse saw Fives frown out of the corner of his eye and continued. “Yeah, somehow he managed to channel the Force or something when the General or Commander were around and decided to say what, at the time, seemed like spooky messages, but, looking back on them, I feel dumb for falling for.”

“Like what?” Echo sat up, leaning in closer.

“Once, ‘Explode something on the next campaign or I’ll steal your tattoo.’”

“I did _not_ say that!” Hardcase exclaimed as the group burst into laughter.

“Yes, you did! I told Kix and we talked to Zeer about it to ensure the explosion. Then, we talked to General Skywalker because there was no way something that claimed to be able to steal tattoos _wasn’t_ a weird Force thing.” He sighed. “That’s one of the more embarrassing ones we fell for. Stealing a tattoo... I can’t believe myself.” 

“Back to Finn again,” Hardcase switched the topic. “How old is he? I need to know exactly what skill-level trooper we’re comparing him to here.”

“Uh, about the age of some of the vode appear here — probably older than those three, but likely younger than me, Fives, and Echo. And he’s about ten years younger than Kix currently is biologically and mentally.”

“So... about my age?” Hardcase asked. “Since—” 

“Wait, did you say _ten_ years younger?” Cutup interrupted. “Holy kriff! Wait, how old is Kix now? I don’t want to math when I don’t have to.”

“He’s sixteen,” Jesse stated, “if you don’t count the cryo. Mentally and physically, he’s thirty-two.”

“ _Sixteen!_ That’s so karking old!”

“Hey now, Cutup.” Fives gave his batchmate a side-eye. “Keep in mind, most human nat-borns live to their eighties.”

“Yeah, well, the three of us are kinda stuck at ten forever,” Droidbait piped up. “Unlike the rest of you. Plus, that’s older than most of us here.”

“Ah, right...” The ARC trailed off.

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck for a minute. He looked away from their small group, over to a larger gathering of brothers. Catching a glimpse of blond hair, he stood up. “Rex is back. I’m gonna go talk to him,” he gestured in the direction he saw the Captain, “so I’ll talk to you guys later unless he decides to come over. Ret’3!” 

“Ret’, Jess!” they called back.

Well, that sure was interesting. Getting more people in on his information about Finn was good. Now to figure out if he could get Kix to talk to Finn. After talking to Rex, that was.

* * *

Finn sat next to Rey, watching a squadron of fresh recruits train. Technically, they were supposed to practice sensing different people, things, and anticipating actions in the Force. But, well, that didn’t mean they couldn’t talk as they did it. 

“So, you know how I’ve ‘got a penchant for,' as General Organa says, recruiting First Order members I come across on missions?” he asked, eyes closed and still mostly concentrated on the group.

“Mhm,” she hummed. The last person they’d picked up had made five defectors he’d recruited. Not the only defectors in the Resistance, but including himself, six was an impressive number for any one person’s credit in the amount of time he’d been there. 

“Well, I was thinking, since I’ve kind of got a good squad of other defectors, I could try for something larger scale than I’m currently doing.”

Rey hummed again. A moment passed before she added, “Like a stormtrooper rebellion or something? So long as you figure out the logistics, I think you’d be successful.”

Finn smiled. “Exactly like that. Thanks for your confidence. It’ll take a while, but I’m hoping we’ll be able to pull it off within the next year.”

“Is that a Resistance ‘we’ or a you, me, Poe, and Master Skywalker ‘we?’” Her words, though curious, were laced with amusement. So maybe he had a tendency to recruit stormtroopers and low-level officers. And maybe that typically happened when on a mission with at least one of the three people she mentioned. It’s not like he did it on purpose.

Scratch that. He recruited on purpose. It wasn’t his fault his friends were always around to watch when it happened. 

“Resistance ‘we,’ though that certainly will include you and Poe, if you’re up to it.”

“We’ll always have your back, Finn.”

They sat in silence as the minutes stretched on, doing their exercise as instructed. Eventually, the recruits began to pack up and made their way off the platform. As they left, the next set moved in, a familiar Force-signature not far behind them. 

Master Skywalker entered and made his way toward them. After briefly reviewing their observations, he dismissed them from training for the day, but not without an overview of what the next day would bring. With a smile and wishing the duo a good rest of the day, he left, stating it was about time he “dragged his sister out of the command room” to make her take a break for once. Even after twenty years, she had the same habits, he’d said.

Finn and Rey stayed on the platform, watching as the second set of recruits worked their ends off under their Sergeant’s instruction, this time, eyes open. The group made good progress, especially considering how many of them came from civilian backgrounds. 

In fact, everyone in the Resistance had been making progress recently. From successful missions to learning common strategies and training to new friendships to weddings announced and babies born. They were thriving. The other shoe would fall soon enough, but they would take what they could when they had the chance.

The planet the troops settled on after fleeing D’Qar, Krocca, was full of a variety of terrains, unlike most planets Finn had visited before or after joining the Resistance. Currently, however, stations nestled into long-forgotten structures left by a group of people who had migrated to Coruscant hundreds of years ago due to something lost to records. Trees popped up here and there, plenty of grass and dirt securing them wherever there wasn’t any ferrocrete. Not too far off was a lake, and about a hundred clicks or so away, a desert. Finn wasn’t particularly interested in exploring it after Jakku, though some of the other members did in their precious off-days. Mountains were about a hundred-fifty the other direction, not near enough to be visible on the horizon.

A brilliant, bright sight, the turquoise sky was lightening from the deep teal and purple it was at sunrise. Rotations being half and then some of the length of a Galactic Standard day, everyone worked during planetary days and nights. Both nocturnal and diurnal creatures could be heard throughout a regular day because of this, chirps and screeches, rustling and twigs breaking. 

Sitting there with one of his best friends, Finn watched as a breeze floated through the training grounds they sat on. Some recruits shivered, some spread their arms and welcomed it. He himself was fine with the clothes he had on, past temperature training in full-effect. Rey, on the other hand, coming from a desert planet, constantly wore long-sleeves and jackets. Poe, too, because of his childhood. The General had smiled when they talked about it, saying it wasn’t too different from her homeworld’s climate, embracing it fully. 

“There’s another thing I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” Finn said softly, breaking the silence between them and shifting slightly toward the other Jedi-in-training.

Rey raised an eyebrow. “Go on, then.”

“This might sound crazy at first, but hear me out.” 

Her speculative expression only grew. “Should I be scared now?”

“No,” he said with a small smile. “You know how Master Skywalker told us sometimes Force ghosts of past Jedi masters visit him? Like Master Yoda and his father and probably others he hasn’t told us about.”

“He mentioned a Master Tahl, once, though I haven’t found anything about someone with that name in the readings we’ve been doing yet.”

“Yeah, like that. I think I’ve seen some around base, but they’re not Jedi. Now — don’t give me that look — I’m going to switch gears. Do you remember Kix?”

“The poor medic you introduced to us and have been trying to get him to come to everything for the past few weeks? How could I forget?” Rey leaned back on her left arm, also angling herself toward Finn. She smirked. “The poor man, being subjected to you _and_ Poe more than necessary.”

“He’s the one that keeps going along with it. I don’t think he really talks to anyone else, so I’m making sure he knows he’s got a spot with us and our friends if he wants to. Also, I’m a delight, and I know how to be clean, so at least he’s not completely swamped with dirt and engine oil from you and Poe when he hangs out with us after a long day in a sterile medbay.”

“Dirt is amazing and somehow even better than sand. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Finn eyed the streak of dirt across Rey’s forehead. It’d been there since they met up to eat before training and hadn’t come off, even after they cleaned up from sparring. At least it wasn’t mud this time. “Anyway, these Force ghosts have been following Kix around. But, as you know, he’s not Force-sensitive. The ghosts, they’re his brothers, and as far as I know, they’re not Force-sensitive either.”

Rey nodded. “And you’re telling me this because…”

“I may sound crazy, but I want you to double-check that I’m not. Just, keep an eye on if there’s anyone extra hanging out when you see him around. The two that appear the most are one with linear line tattoos wrapping around the right side of his head and on his chin, and one who has the old Republic cog around the left side of his head and over his eye.” 

Her jaw dropped, eyes widening. “Over his eye?”

He laughed. “Yes, over his eye. I’m not sure if we can interact with them yet, but if we can, I’m asking him if it was a bet. Oh, and they both have shaved heads and wear armor.”

Rey nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out for you. Like I said, I’ll always have your back.” She paused a second. “How do you know they’re not Jedi? Force-sensitivity isn’t always genetic, or so I’ve been told.”

Finn shrugged, fiddling with his sleeve ever so slightly after reminding himself he could get away with it now. “Remember when Poe got injured a few weeks ago?”

“You need to be slightly more specific.” She shivered as another breeze came through. 

Scooting a bit closer to her — for heat, of course, and to block her from the wind, no other reason, surely — he did so. “The time when Beebee-ate also had to get patched up and I was sent to wait outside the medbay while you waited outside the engineers.”

“Ah, yes, continue.”

“Through the doors, I saw the ghost with the cog standing around Kix’s station, poking through stuff. Except, as a ghost, his fingers were going _through_ it. So I may have used the Force to float something he tried to grab and he was really surprised. Especially because Kix accidentally saw it.”

“And normally Force ghosts who are Jedi can influence their environment to some degree that includes occasionally touching things,” Rey finished. “But since he was surprised by it, he can’t be a Jedi.”

“Exactly.” He smiled at her. “Thank you, Rey.” 

“Anytime, Finn.” She smiled back and the lightness he felt had nothing to do with the sunrise. 

A few hours later, with the sun high in the sky once again even though it was nearing 21:00 Galactic Standard Time, Finn was dragging Kix to hang out with him, Rey, and Poe. More leading the way than dragging, but Finn had found over the last ten-day or so that showing up at the end of the medic’s shifts meant he was more likely to tag along. Doctor Kalonia even took to messaging him times she especially wanted the man to take a break, catching on to what he was doing. 

“What exactly,” said medic asked, “are we doing this time?”

“ _I_ am getting my friends together for some sabacc and _you_ are taking a break from the medbay.”

“I know about ten different versions of that game, none of which are likely the actual version, so you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Ten versions?” He glanced at Kix.

He shrugged. “My brothers didn’t agree on what were the right rules and argued over it every time. That’s not even all the different versions they created. One was more go-aiwha than sabacc.”

“Aiwha?” First Order training taught him fauna he’d potentially encounter on missions, but he’d never heard of those before.

Kix blinked twice. “Aquatic creatures native to where I grew up. Some beings say go-fish, but we substituted it to make it more of our own thing. Sorry, forgot most people don’t know what those are, back with my brothers or now.”

Hmm, he’d have to look up more about Kamino later, see what an aiwha looked like if the Empire hadn't destroyed the records. Kix still hadn’t said he was a clone, but as they got to know each other better, he dropped more details that lined up with the research he had done. Some of it, he’d never found in any research. But, he reminded himself, he was taking this as friends getting to know each other, not a former stormtrooper trying to understand a clone trooper.

“You’re good. Anyway, I didn’t know there were versions other than the one I played, so you can watch for a round, see for yourself which one it is. I’m sure you’ll catch on quickly.”

The medic gave him half a smile as they reached their destination. Walking through a set of double doors, they entered a general lounge area. Tables, chairs, a comm station, and even a holoscreen spread across the room. Some squads hung out in clumps, others in groups of two or three. In the far right corner was their group, chatting amiably.

Poe and Rey greeted them enthusiastically, a few of the other defectors there waving slightly. They settled in, made introductions to the one person Kix didn’t know yet, and got going. Almost right away, Rey caught Finn’s eye and nodded to him almost imperceptibly. 

She could see the ghost, too. 

As predicted, Kix caught on quickly, though he stated this wasn’t one of the ten versions he’d learned. Within a handful of rounds, he won, laughing along as Rey adamantly accused him of knowing this version already.

“It may be a different version, but it’s still sabacc,” he replied. “Plus, you guys don’t cheat as much as I’m used to.”

Rey got a dangerous look in her eye — the one Poe said Finn got before recruiting someone, but he’d say Poe got before pulling a stunt in his X-Wing. “Oh, it’s _on,_ ” she declared loudly.

Finn couldn’t help smiling to himself. This was not where he’d thought he’d be a year ago. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

Kix hadn’t expected a single mealtime conversation would mean he’d be playing sabacc with a group of people he hadn’t known two ten-days ago, but there he was. Ever since that meal, Finn had actively sought him out and included him in whatever his friend group was doing. Nearly every free moment he had was now spent with them, and there wasn’t anything Kix could do about it.

Well, it’s not like he resisted it. It got him the social interactions he’d finally admitted he needed, and they were a fun group to spend time with. He had a feeling Finn had picked up on how secluded he’d made himself, even without saying it (kriffing Jedi being empaths).

Before Kix knew it, he was enjoying the time he spent out of the medbay, making some of his first friendships outside of his brothers. He found himself letting more details of his past come up naturally, not freezing up as he had with Zactre or Force knew how many other people. He still hadn’t said he was a clone, but the things he shared made it obvious enough for anyone paying attention with half a brain, which Finn undoubtedly had. 

Finn also hadn’t confirmed in words he was the stormtrooper people talked about. Much like Kix’s own situation, however, he didn’t shy away from details. Maybe one day they’d sit down and talk openly about it with one another, but they weren’t quite there yet. With that, Kix was fine. Even in the GAR, where they were all vode, trust had to be built before certain things were shared.

“Alright, medic-man, your turn,” Jevcol, one of the First Order officers Finn convinced to defect, stated.

He raised an eyebrow. “Medic-man?” He drew a card. “A bit odd, but nothing I haven’t heard before.”

_What, only one card? Your strategy is horrible. You should—_

Kix fought to not roll his eyes. Feeling better as he was, the Jesse-thoughts still persisted. Nothing like a game of sabacc to bring them back, especially with how often Jesse mocked his strategies. Not that his batchmate won games more often than he did.

“Oh, yeah?” Jevcol prodded. “By who, and what other kinds of things did they call you?”

He huffed to cover a laugh. “My brother, Jesse. I probably shouldn’t repeat some of the insults he threw my way.” The group laughed at that as he smiled to himself. “No, mainly stuff like Kix-man and Kixster, though once he handed me something and called me Kix-stand, which was probably the weirdest nickname he gave me.”

Jesse denied it happened in front of the rest of Torrent when Kix relayed it to them later that day. Hardcase had snagged a recording of it somehow, though, and that quickly shut him down. The ARCs had found it hilarious, and Rex even smiled at Jesse’s sputtering afterward.

Hmm. He wished he still had that recording.

The table laughed. “Sounds like a fun guy,” Poe said.

He missed his brother’s antics. Though, Finn was on his way to becoming an honorary vod, at least to him. Not to be presumptuous of anything, but they got along well and Kix had a feeling Finn would make it extremely difficult to get rid of him, now that he’d begun to open up to the group. Jesse and Finn would get along well, had they ever had the chance to meet.

“Yeah,” he responded, instead of vocalizing any of those thoughts.

The sun was once again setting as they packed up a few hours after they started. Thankfully, the eleven-hour rotation lined up with the twenty-four-hour Galactic Standard Day, at least for the moment. Keeping the Resistance on Galactic Time standards when the local rotation didn’t align wasn’t anything new for Kix, having spent a good three years of his life on a Star Destroyer and another two on the Meson Martinet. Made for some fragging horrible jet-lag for the pilots and others not used to it, though. 

Kix hung back as everyone split off to their various spots on base, taking his time walking to his bunk. The hallway he was in, while empty and not decorated, wasn’t anything like the sterile hallways of Kamino or wandering back to the barracks on the Resolute. The floors, made of wood, and walls spotted with signs and posters put up by members, gave an open liveliness he rarely saw outside of barracks and hidden spots. Whether due to the Kaminoans’ harsh soldier-rearing or the need to look professional (despite how often personal items from everyone were strewn around every Destroyer), the hallways never looked like passages of hope where people lived more than the simple buildings on Krocca, in Nova Base did.

He savored the feeling. Force knew how long he’d get to experience it, whether because of a base-evacuation or something even less fortunate. Simply walking and enjoying it, no rush anywhere. Which is probably why, despite the amount of awareness training he had as a battlefield medic, he tripped over something.

_Clunk!_

Whatever it was rammed right into thighs, full-force ahead. His instincts finally kicked in, the only thing keeping him from sprawling to the floor. Rather, he staggered to the side, catching a glimpse of what it was.

He blinked, frozen, as a series of beeps and whistles were directed toward him from a familiar sight. An R2 astromech, painted in a familiar shade of blue, yelled at him to watch where he was going in binary. They didn’t make R2-series droids anymore, did they? He highly doubted they did after fifty years plus however long before that they came out. That could only mean…

“Artoo-deetoo?” he asked, sounding baffled to his own ears.

The beeping stopped. _Do I know you?_ The droid beeped back. Kix was suddenly grateful he’d picked up on binary from medical droids and the sheer number of other droids he interacted with before his accidental time travel incident. _Wait, wait. I_ do _! You’re a clone! Which one?_

Kix snorted. “Of course I am, Artoo. You’ve yelled at me for my tattoo enough times.”

_Tattoo?_ The astromech whirred in confusion for a moment. _Oh! Medic Kix, with the mean tattoo?_

“Yep, that’s me, buddy. It’s been fifty years, how has nobody erased your memory yet? By all means, you shouldn’t be able to recognize me right now.”

_I’m good at my job, thank you very much. Thanks for covering up the tattoo, but how are_ you _here? You’re not a droid or super old._

“Wow, thanks. I was put in cryostasis by Count Dooku right before the Captain and Commander left for Mandalore. Only got out three years ago.” Why he was telling this to his General’s old droid when he hadn’t told his new friends yet, he had no idea. “I’m guessing you belong to General Organa now, being Skywalker’s kid an’ all.”

_Yes,_ the droid beeped back. _Both of them! I get to fly and blow things up again, isn’t it amazing?_

He chuckled. Of course, Skywalker’s droid took after him in battle tactics, even after all this time. “Here, if you want to keep talking to me, so long as you aren’t in a hurry, we should move from the hallway.”

Artoo beeped an affirmative. It wasn’t too hard to find an empty room, considering it was almost midnight Galactic Time, with the light outside matching. Kix settled into a chair, Artoo coming to a stop near him. 

“Alright, so what have you been up to since the Clone Wars?” he asked, shifting into a comfortable position. 

The astromech started rambling right away, talking about working with Senator Organa and C3PO throughout the time leading up to the Galactic Civil War and how he saw General Kenobi one last time. How he flew with Luke Skywalker both then and now, and how he’d been shut down for a while and took forever to reboot because he had over sixty years of information to load through on start-up. He also mentioned he should get 3PO to meet up with them, though the protocol droid _had_ had his memory erased after the fall of the Republic and wouldn’t remember Kix like Artoo had.

“Wait, he’s still around, too? Good to know I’m not the only Clone Wars relic other than you around, but wow.” 

_You didn’t know Doctor Kalonia grew up during the Clone Wars?_ Artoo beeped.

Kix quirked an eyebrow. “No, I didn’t, but growing up then and being an adult, especially one _fighting_ in the war are very different things.”

Artoo whirred softly. _I guess that’s true._

“I wish I had some recordings from back then,” he admitted. “The one’s I’ve found on the holonet are mostly twisted by the Empire or the First Order. What I’ve found preserved in the Resistance’s databases don’t have much on my brothers. When there is, it’s not the Five-Oh-First.”

Artoo whistled in agreement. _I miss constantly flying in the space battles. And annoying you and the other clones._

Kix crossed his arms, looking at the ceiling. “Yeah, I miss my brothers, too. Everyday. Somehow, I’m even missing Jesse’s annoying habit of leaving his socks on top of people’s datapads.” He sighed, his chest constricting.

His eyes stung, and he blinked as Artoo studied him. _Hold on a second, I have something._

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. Small details were easier, now that he was sharing them with Finn. Outright talking about it — Artoo was the first time he’d talked to anyone in a straightforward manner about it since he explained it to High Command. Probably his only chance to talk with someone who knew who he was talking about. 

Kriff, he always missed his brothers, but this conversation made it hit particularly hard. Kind of like when he’d sparred with Jesse after he’d gotten back from ARC training and got more bruises than he’d originally bargained for. The thought simultaneously made him want to laugh and cry.

The droid beeped, grabbing his attention again. _I have a video for you._

A click, and then the astromech’s projector turned on. _“You recording, Artoo?”_ a voice he hadn’t heard in ages asked. Anakin Skywalker was visible, crouching in front of his droid.

_“Are you sure about this, General?”_ That sounded like Rex, coming from out of view. 

“ _Absolutely, Rex.”_ He stood and backed up, revealing the Torrent Company from earlier in the war, not too long after Saleucami, judging by who he saw. They stood on a simulation course, helmets on besides Rex and blasters at the ready. _“When have I ever let you down?”_ He paused. _“During training, that is. Plus, this will be great practice for Snips.”_

Rex’s face said enough. Despite it, he put on his helmet and faced his men, pulling his pistols out. _“Ready, men?”_

_“Yessir!”_ the resounding response came. 

Simulation droids flickered to life as the view zoomed out, revealing the rest of the room. The group sprung into action, not unlike on Kamino. The main difference, besides their size and armor, was the two lightsabers swinging through the air, one blue, one green.

Within seconds, Attie — oh, wow, he hadn’t thought about him in a long time — tripped, crashing into Hardcase. His batchmate, avoiding falling, let go of his rotary cannon. The cannon hit Echo, who toppled over Fives. On down the line, until there was a mess of giggling and snickering clones on the ground, their commanding officers obliviously pushing ahead. 

Kix noticed his past-self quickly pop up, take off his helmet, and check on everyone. Blaster fire still came from the droids, though solely concentrated on the three quite a ways away from them. 

_“‘M fine, Kix, leave me alone,”_ Jesse said, shaking his hands off. 

_“You’re still recovering from a broken arm, Jess. Just let me double-check.”_

At those words, the officers seemed to notice what was going on behind them. The General signaled for the droids to power down as Rex holstered his blasters and took his helmet off. The Commander deactivated her lightsaber, laughing at the sight she encountered. 

_“Do I want to know?”_ he asked, an eyebrow raised.

Snickering still rang out in the room as they attempted to calm down. Finally, just as it was silent and Skywalker had turned around, someone Kix couldn’t identify spoke up. _“It was Attie, sir.”_

_“Be quiet!”_ Attie hissed back.

The room broke into rambunctious laughter at the exchange. Jesse doubled over, leaning on Kix and clutching his stomach. Fives took off his helmet, wiping at his eyes. The General chuckled, the Commander snickering along. 

Even Rex had some form of a smile on his face. _“Pick yourselves up, men. We’ll run this again. And_ please _,”_ he gave them all a stern glance, _“don’t trip on each other this time.”_

_“We’ll try, sir, but no promises,”_ Ridge said. Torrent laughed again, as General Skywalker signaled to his droid, Ridge giving a flourished bow as it cut out.

Looking at Artoo’s visual receptors, Kix gave him a smile, noticing how teary the video had made him. At some point, he’d leaned forward, too. “Thank you. Could you send that to my datapad? Here’s the code.”

Settling back after giving said code, he took another deep breath. He remembered that day, training in their time in hyperspace between battles. They’d been training some of the newer members who’d been transferred in not too long beforehand. Back before deaths began to drastically change Torrent for a second time.

Suddenly, the door opened. “There you are, Artoo,” a soft voice said. “You were supposed to be in the Command Center an hour and a half ago.”

It was General Organa. On instinct, Kix straightened, though he did not stand. _I was catching up with Kix_ , the droid protested. 

She turned her head toward the medic. “Kix. I wasn’t expecting you here at this time of night.”

“Sir,” he said, even as she noticed his posture and motioned for him to relax. “Sorry, I just ran into Artoo, who told me he _didn’t_ have anywhere to be about fifteen minutes ago. I haven’t seen him since I was on Anaxes, so we were talking.”

She nodded understandingly. He felt a sudden rush of gratitude that she knew about his situation, as little as they interacted since he’d joined. “You’re fine, Kix. Artoo, however,” she turned toward the astromech, “you are not. If you aren’t at the Command Center when I get back, we’ll power Threepio on and send him after you.” 

_Yes, okay, okay,_ Artoo responded. _It sent, Kix. See you later!_ And with that, the droid zoomed out of the room. 

General Organa turned back to him. “I didn’t know you knew binary, Kix. If I did, I might have sent Artoo to talk to you sooner.”

“Ah, yeah. Picked up on it pretty easily with how many droids we worked with and were on the ship. I didn't know Artoo was still around. Also, he's not particularly fond of my tattoo, so he’s yelled at me a few times before.” He gestured to the left side of his head. “Can’t see it anymore because of my hair, but it says ‘A good droid is a dead one.’ Fitting for the field, not so much for avoiding your General’s astromech.”

She smiled at him. “I would think so. I need to head back to the Command Center. You know where to find me or Artoo if you ever want to talk to either of us. And get some sleep, I know you’ve been working hard for us in the medbay.”

Kix smiled back at her. “Yes, sir. I’ll see you around.” 

Now that was an order he could follow easily after the day he’d had. Maybe not before rewatching that video once or twice more, though. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Brother. Back  
> 2\. Hey, guys/brothers! Back  
> 3\. See you! Bye!. Back
> 
> All my fics contain three things: 1) The thing I meant to write 2) Rex, even if just a mention 3) Domino Twins and/or Squad. Idk how this keeps happening lol thanks for putting up with it guys. Hope you guys enjoyed it! And hey, I didn't take four months to update this time! Next update will come after Winter Semester starts, so the date for that's up in the air. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to leave a comment or yell at me on my tumblr @lifeofclonewars


End file.
